Red Lanterns
by 713135
Summary: The team break down in the midle of nowhere but find a mysterious town which they can't seem to leave. Dun dun dunn... -Ok, so my summaries suck- JISBON
1. Chapter 1: Walking In Circles

**I don't understand this rating system so I used T since there is some violence and stuff in here. (it would be stupid to rate M since i'm 15 myself)  
This is my first attempt at a story. :S Please review and tell me if you think it's worth continuing. ^^**

~ Prologue ~

Dace Sawyer looked up from his tabloid newspaper, momentarily forgetting its overblown stories of sleaze and scandal, to quickly scan the deserted streets. Not a person in sight, but then why would there be on a day like this, he thought, taking a sip of his lukewarm instant coffee. Putting down his paper he let his eyes wander over the empty tables of the small, gloomy café, its tattered 80's wallpaper, its chipped, grubby tiles, the 'Out Of Order' sign scrawled in large red letters, hanging lopsidedly on an apparently broken vending machine, and finally over the chest of the young, blond waitress sitting at the counter reading 'Soap-opera Digest' and painting her nails a lurid shade of pink. What a way to spend a Saturday afternoon. Drinking the last of his coffee, Dace began to leave but was stopped by the jingling of bells above the door, eager to announce the arrival of a new costumer. A large bald man entered, in a long black coat, black shoes, and a plain grey tie. Dance sat back on the hard, plastic chair with a dull thud as the man approached.

"Dace Sawyer, I presume," said the man, in a gruff English accent.

"Yes," said Dance, in a small voice. He hadn't been expecting someone so imposing.

"I m an agent of Novus, I believe we have some business to attend to."

~ Chapter 1 ~

Agent Lisbon drove her team, Kimble Cho, Wayne Rigsby, Grace Van-Pelt and their consultant Patrick Jane, down the narrow deserted road. They had been assigned a case in Arromouth, a short one hour drive but had been driving for over three. Turning yet another corner, they came to a long stretch of scrubland, broken only by the dusty road they drove on. As the track became increasingly narrower, rocks and sand started to fly off the track and hit the windscreen.  
Cho, who had been intently reading a 'Stephen King' novel with a characteristic stern expression, looked up from his book and leaned over towards the driver's seat.

"I don't think this is the right way."

"Thank you for that helpful insight Cho," replied Lisbon, not taking her eyes off the road. The team remained quiet for a few moments. Cho went back to his novel, Rigsby and Van-pelt continued to pretend they weren't staring at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking, and Jane remained slouched in the passenger seat. His eyes were closed but Lisbon suspected that he was more awake than any other team member, including herself. Feeling her eyelids droop, she widened her eyes and stared once again at the now almost non-existent road.

"If you're tired Lisbon, I could drive for a while," said Jane, neither turning to face her nor opening his eyes.

"I'm perfectly capable of driving, Jane," Lisbon snapped, before suppressing a yawn.

"Your body suggests otherwise."

With a sigh, Lisbon turned to the consultant. She studied his profile, his smooth jaw line and blond, curly hair. The top button of his shirt was undone and his jacket lay discarded next to the case file on the dashboard.

"Must you stare at me whilst you're attempting to drive?"

"Shut up, Jane."

"That's hardly professional now, is it?"

"Oh, and I suppose _you_ would know, Mr. Conventional."

"I wasn't the one staring inappropriately at a colleague." 'The Smirk' had now appeared on Jane's face. It appeared so often that it had even been assigned its own name. Lisbon, who had allocated a name to the expression long before it became commonly known, preferred to call it Jane's_ 'I'm a smug, arrogant basted and I rule the world_' face. However, it was known by the majority of the CBI more simply as 'The Smirk' and, by any name, it did nothing to help Lisbon's mood.

"Dear God Jane, don't anger It." joked Cho from the back seat, although slightly nervous that Lisbon might tear out her own hair in order to strangle Jane, leaving him to choke on his own arrogance.

"Jane, if you..." Lisbon's next sentence was cut off as the car suddenly lurched, the engine spluttering and gurgling.

Cho's first thought was that Lisbon really was about to tear out her hair and was almost surprised when he heard no ripping and mildly disappointed when he heard no choking Jane. The car continued rolling for a few moments longer before finally coming to a halt in the sand.

"What happened?" asked Van-Pelt, apparently having stopped staring at Rigsby long enough to realise they were no longer moving.

"Well, we appear to have run out of gas," replied Jane, who had now opened his eyes and was sitting up in his seat. Leaning over to check the fuel gage he continued, "I can now confirm, we have in fact, run out of gas."

"Does anyone know where we are?" asked Rigsby.

"According to the map there aren't any towns anywhere near this area," sighed Lisbon, running her hands over her face and rubbing her eyes. She really did look exhausted, thought Jane.

"Well according to the map we should be in Arromouth by now. The map isn't always right," he said. "Come on, the nearest town can't be that far."

Before Lisbon had a chance to argue, Jane had already left the car and was walking out ahead of it, gesturing for them to follow. Looking at the vast desert surrounding them, Lisbon grumbled something incoherent and climbed out the car herself, soon followed by Cho, Van-Pelt and Rigsby.

***

The team had been walking for just over an hour and the sun had gone down long before. Even Jane, although still striding at least 7 metres ahead of the rest of them, was beginning to feel tired.  
"How do we know we're not just walking in circles?" asked Van-Pelt, who was trailing at the back of the group with Rigsby.

"Yeah," said Cho, "We are following Jane after all."

"I heard that," called Jane, but then he stopped. "Hey Lisbon, come and take a look at this." Bending down, Lisbon could see that underneath the dust was a sign. It was scratched and faded but she could just about make out the words. 'Augcansire – 20 kilometres', Maybe there was a town around here after all.

"Augcansire, sounds German," said Jane, as the others gathered around the beaten sign.

"Well, wherever it was, it's either a long way away or long gone by now. There's nothing here but desert," said Rigsby.

"Obviously there was, maybe part of its still left. It's getting dark and we do need somewhere to stay, even if it isn't exactly a luxury accommodation," said Van-Pelt.

"Hey, I think I can see the road," said Cho, walking ahead.

"Yeah, I see it too," added Rigsby, "and it's getting clearer."

"Maybe we haven't been walking in circles all this time."

The Team continued walking, at first with slight optimism, but it soon faded and left the familiar dread they had all come to expect with this job. The hot summer weather was beginning to weaken, allowing the cold bitter winds of the desert to bight at their skin. The road, although it was now at least 70% tarmac, still seemed to stretch out over the desert like a flat, gray rainbow that they would never reach the end of. As the last of the sunlight diminished, swallowed by the horizon, Jane squinted at a distant shape, so small it could barely be called anything at all.  
"Do you see that?" Jane asked Lisbon, gesturing with his head at the grey spec in the distance.  
Lisbon was about to retort that she could see nothing, when something caught her eye. The team walked slightly faster and with purpose towards the unknown object, which now seemed to be approaching them rapidly though they could see it was not moving. It was quite close now and some features were starting to become visible. The object was a dark blue colour, and it had windows, and lights, and wheels...

"It's a car!" said Jane, satisfied with knowing the identity of his unidentified object. Maybe they weren't the only ones lost in the desert, but then he noticed something odd. He knew that colour, those widows, those wheels and that was _his_ jacket lying on the dashboard alongside _their_ case file. The car belonged to them.

"How is this possible?" asked Van-Pelt.

"I don't know," Jane and Lisbon replied in unison.


	2. Chapter 2: Shimmering Voices

**Hey, so I realised I left (insert place name) in the last chapter and now won't let me change it. *grumbles incoherently under breath*  
Things get kinda surreal in this chapter but that's what happens when I write at 11:30 at night.  
Thank you to the people who reviewed the last chapter. Ah, how I love reviews. *swoons***

~ Chapter 2 ~

It had been at least twenty minutes since anyone had said anything.  
They had all climbed back into the car and were now sitting in silence. Even Jane seemed to be stumped, and this worried the rest of the team. It was clear they could not have walked in one great circle; they would have reached the edge of the scrubland. It was bitterly cold now, and the intense silence did nothing the warm the atmosphere.  
Suddenly there was a knock on the window, startling the team out of there trance. Hesitantly, Lisbon reached over and wound down the window, revealing a dashing man on the other side. He seemed to be around mid 30's and dressed in a strangely old-fashioned manner. He wore a black suit with a matching hat that was tilted slightly to the side. His hair was also black and he had a small moustache surrounded by light stubble which covered his strong jaw. His eyes were a dark brown and it was hard to distinguish the iris from the pupil.

"Good evening, my lady," he said with a surprisingly smooth, even voice. "It's far to cold to be sitting out here. Do you not have a place to stay?"

Slightly taken aback, Lisbon replied, "Uh, we broke down." She then continued to stare at the stranger, rather confused as to where he might have come from.

"Well, then I insist that you stay at my hotel. It's not far; in fact you can see it from here.  
The man stepped away from the car as Lisbon, followed by Jane and then the rest of the team climbed out of the car. They could clearly see a small town, its lights shining and twinkling at them through the darkness. The man began to walk away, and the automatically followed. No one said a word. Not even Jane had a blunt remark or rude comment to offer.

They walked through the empty streets, passing the dark windows of houses and cafes. There were Chinese lanterns hanging from the buildings and telegraph poles, casting an eerie orange glow over the roads and sidewalks and creating vast, monstrous shadows on the walls.

"Sure is quite 'round here," Jane said, finally breaking the silence.

"It is at this hour," the man replied, "We have very strict rules concerning when people are and when people are not allowed out."

Jane glanced at his watch, which read quarter past eight. That was a strange curfew, he thought, but decided to keep it to himself. There was something strange about this town, something was very wrong. As they entered the Hotel, which stood alone at the end of the street, Jane noticed its old faded wallpaper, the rusted metal table in the lobby and the chipped, uneven desk the man now stood behind.

"My name is Gustav, and this is my hotel. I'm afraid we only have two rooms to spare but they both have king sized beds."

"We'll take them," Lisbon replied, shaking off the dream like feeling that seemed to have washed over them as soon as they left the car. "How much will that cost?"

"Oh, I'm not here to take your money. What use would I have for it?" said Gustav, handing Lisbon two room keys. "Follow me." He then briskly walked up the stairs and the team had to jog to catch up.

"These are your rooms," he pointed to the two doors he stood in front of. "If you need anything, I'm downstairs." Gustav then left as quickly as he had arrived.

"That was weird," said Van-pelt.

"A town that appears from no-where," replied Jane, "I'd say that was a little more than weird."

***

The team went to bed and fell asleep almost instantly, the hours of walking finally catching up with them. Lisbon and Van-Pelt shared one room while Jane, Cho and Rigsby shared the other. The beds were indeed King sized and could easily be comfortably shared between three. Although, no matter how comfortable a bed was, it was no match for Rigsby's snoring and would inevitable loose its part in the battle of sleep versus conscious.

Jane considered this as he lay awake, listening to Rigsby's incessant symphony. He stared at the red velvet canopy that loomed over the top of the bed, embroidered with golden animals and ornate patterns that seemed to dance in the glow of the lanterns from outside. That's odd, thought Jane, crawling out from between Rigsby and Cho and walking towards the window. He was certain he had closed the curtains before going to bed.

In the opposite room, Lisbon watched the shadows flicker across the hotel wall. She sat at the end of the bed, unable to sleep, especially now since Van-Pelt was sprawled across both sides of the bed. For a small woman she sure took up a lot of room. Lisbon continued to study the dark shapes that slid over the walls, lapping at picture frames and furniture. She could here a loud hum coming from outside, like a swarm of bees or wasps. Walking to the window, she looked out over the street, over the cars and neat rows of trees, planted with circular guards in the sidewalk. She had to admit, despite its strange and mysterious ways, it was a peaceful neighbourhood.

The hum seemed to have become louder, almost vicious, but seemed to be nothing more than the buzz of electricity coming from the telegraph poles. Almost disappointed, she turned to go back to bed but something stopped her.  
Whispers, the hum was whispering. Whispers, murmurs, soft, low voices came shimmering across the street. Shouts and laughs flash in and out of conversation, wavering in the dancing light.

_"So I said there's no way you're…"  
"I never meant for this to happen…"  
"Did you here about Johnny? Apparently he's…"  
"How about tomorrow night? We could go around five and we'd be back in time…"_

They dance and flicker in gold and red, glowing with the information of lives she didn't know, people she had never met.

"_I love you…"  
"I hate you…"  
"I miss you…"  
"When are you coming home?"  
"What are you saying?"  
"I don't believe you…"  
"Don't say that…"  
"Please say something…"_

The voices were clear and yet she could not understand them. They were here only for a moment before they fell away into the night, their light dying.  
Lisbon slammed the window shut. The window she didn't even remember opening. Climbing back into bed she pulled the covers up to her chin and laid unmoving in the silence. She closed her eyes against the voices, against the whispers but they were still there outside her window. She pulled the covers over her head and covered her ears with her hands.  
The voices shout and whisper and hum.

***

No longer being able to bear the thunderous echoes of Rigsby's snoring, Jane sat in the hall outside his room, slouched against the wall with his legs outstretched. This was how Lisbon found him when she left her room moments later.

"What brings you to such shadowy hallways at this hour, Miss Lisbon?" Jane asked, raising his eyes to meet hers. Lisbon merely shrugged and replied, "Couldn't sleep."  
She sat on the floor next to Jane after he had gestured for her to do so and leaned her head back against the wall.

"Are you ok?" Jane asked, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah," she replied slowly, "just tired." They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the shadows from a flickering light further down the hall.

"Did you hear anything… strange… in your room, coming from outside?" Lisbon asked, startling Jane from the warm blanket of silence.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." He could see that this was not true but decided to let it go.

"Hey, since we're both up, how about we do a little exploring."

"Exploring?"

"This place is bound to have secrets of sleaze and scandal just waiting to be tripped over."

"I don't know, I think I might go back to bed." Lisbon said, rubbing her eyes.

"Oh, come on Lisbon. Where's your sense of adventure?" Jane asked, extending his hand to help her up. "It'll be fun." He grasped Lisbon's hand before she had a chance to object and dragged her down the hall.  
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**The whole hum thing was based on part of a Stephen King novel I read; I forget which one, possibly 'Salem's Lot. *ponders*  
Please review. *puppy dog eyes***


	3. Chapter 3: Dissapear Completely

~ Chapter 3 ~

Gustav sat in his old green armchair, staring in to the red and orange flames of the fire. He watched them twist and curl around each other, weaving and intertwining in a blend of smoke and colour. He watched as they formed warped figures, their faces bent and skewed into distorted expressions of horror and pain. They ran through the fire, staggering and lurching across the flames before flickering into the smoke.  
These were his people. They would escape one day and they would surly be the death of him, but they would remember forever that he caught them, that he held them captive.

Gustav often watched his people, trapped inside the flames, their hair burning as they stumble in and out of sight. He surrounded himself with old newspapers, their pages littered with crude stories of sex and humiliation. These are the stories that fill the minds of the average person. The people whose minds are so full of the things that don't make the slightest difference to their lives and so they feel no desire to do anything about the things that really do…  
and it is these stories that blind them from the harsh reality of war and violence, diseases and floods, famine and terrorism. These newspapers talk of homicide and violent crimes as if that's the way things are supposed to be.  
He walked over to his window and looked out over the streets, streets made by the same celebrity-driven moronic population, and he look on them with contempt. He gazed and the lanterns that flickered in the dark, his lanterns. Each glowed with its own small light and illuminated the world bellow in hues of red and orange. He leant against the window, and addressed the lanterns like a friend.

"Think what this world would do to you," he said. "They would kill you if they could. Believe me; you're better off where you are."

***

"Jane, it's cold and I'm tired, can we please go back to bed now."

"It would appear you are implying we return to the same bed," Jane replied, looking up from the documents and papers that were strewn across the small cluttered room. Despite the dim light, he could still see the light blush that crossed her cheeks.

"Come on Jane, what are you even looking for?" Lisbon questioned, her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

"Doesn't it strike you as odd that we haven't seen another guest, or member of staff or even another person at all other than the manager?"

"Not at 2 O'clock in the morning it doesn't."

"There's something wrong here, and I bet the answer is in these files." Jane walked over to one of the old filling cabinets and began sifting through the draws, pulling out various files and then discarding them on to the floor.

"If there was anything here worth hiding then the door wouldn't have been open."

"It wasn't open, I picked the lock." Jane stated, not looking up from the file in his hand. Lisbon stared at him for a moment, mind processing what he had just said.

"You picked the lock?! Jane, have you any idea how many rules this violates, not to mention…"

"Bingo!" Jane shouted, holding up one of the files he had not thrown carelessly to the floor. It contained a newspaper article with the headline "Mysterious Motel Murder". Lisbon read the article with obvious disinterest.

_The Whinstead Motel is well known for its clean, well priced rooms and its polite helpful staff, but not for its disappearing guests. Daniel Folldon, a guest at the Motel, claims he was staying along with his business partner, Jake Myers. However, staff and other guests at the hotel deny any knowledge of his partner ever being there. There is no record of his name on the Motel's database and he was never seen by any person other than Daniel Folldon. After the police phoned Mr. Folldon's wife, she insists that her husband never mentioned his partner and she was under the impression he was staying at the Motel alone. On further inquiries… _

"I fail to see how this relates to the Hotel," Lisbon said, not bothering to reed the rest of the article and handing it back to Jane, who was now engrossed in yet another file. All the files on his right seemed to contain more newspaper articles on similar occurrences.

"Mike Sullen, disappeared whilst staying at The Red Deer Inn with his wife. No proof or evidence he ever existed. Marianne Dyons disappeared during a holiday with her friends at Chesington Hotel. No one else knows who she is. Dan Hunt, Sophie Kansin, Nicholas Fink and Andrea Dones. All disappeared one by one while staying at a youth hostel in Kaesin. Jenny Sawye, the last person staying at the hostel, is the only one who remembers them. There are dozens of cases Lisbon, all the same. Why keep them, why file them away unless they are important." Said Jane, walking over to where Lisbon stood.

"People don't just disappear, Lisbon!"

"We have no right to be in here. We should leave before…" Lisbon let her sentence trail off as they both heard footsteps coming towards them. They turned to the door, but the shadow of a figure was already creeping along the wall.

"This way," Jane whispered as the headed for an old wooden door on the opposite wall of the room. It creaked as he opened it but they had already made enough noise to wake deaf reindeer on the far side of Canada. The door led to a large empty room with bare white walls, concrete floor and a single light that swayed from the high ceiling. The footsteps echoed all around them, leaping from wall to wall before fading and settling on the ground.  
Scanning the room, Jane saw a white door, almost invisible. He grabbed Lisbon's hand and ran towards it. It closed behind them just as the door they had come through creaked open. This third room was the exact opposite to the first. Ornate red wallpaper covered the walls and matched the soft, velvet curtains. A warm fire burned by an old, warn armchair, its flames reflected in the polished wooden floor. The room was full of shelves and on each self was a neat row of books. Even on the glass coffee table in front of the chair there were tidy stacks of books. Jane ran to the next door but found it was locked. He fumbled with the thin piece of wire he had unlocked the first with.

"There's no time!" Exclaimed Lisbon, as they heard the footsteps approach.

Frantically looking round the room, Jane noticed one of the floorboards was raised slightly above the others. He lifted it to reveal a small narrow hole underneath the floor. Not wasting any time on discussion, he lay down and pulled Lisbon on top of him, letting the floorboard slide back into place just as the doorknob turned.

Jane and Lisbon lay perfectly still as whoever was above them walked over to the other door to check it was still locked, the sound of their footsteps vibrating through the floorboards. Lisbon let her head rest in the crook of Jane's neck and her hands lay on his chest. Jane slowly slid his hands round her waist and only now did he really notice how little she was wearing.  
Her pyjamas consisted of black shorts that barely covered the top half of her thighs and a thin, grey t-shirt. The slim material of her clothes along with the thin fabric of his own meant he could easily feel her soft, round breasts pressed against him. He was now extremely aware of how close she was, her lips just millimetres away from his, her smooth legs either side of his hips.

Lisbon resisted the urge to nuzzle his soft curls with her nose and suppressed a sigh as she felt his hands slide over her waist and rest on her back. She didn't want to admit the effect he had on her, not even to herself. Yet she couldn't help thinking that if she turned her head slightly, her lips would brush against his.

The person above them began walking back to where they lay. Jane analysed the way he moved in an attempt to think about something, anything, other then how good Lisbon felt in his arms. He could tell from the loud footsteps that it was a man, around mid-30's. The man knew they were still in the room and yet appeared in no hurry to find them. Infact, he was almost curtain the man knew exactly where they are, but instead of confronting them, he left the room.

They lay in silence for a few moments, partly because they quite liked their current position, but also because they were still nervous that the man may not have left and was waiting right above them with a croquet mallet.  
When he was certain the man had left, Jane began to reach for the floorboard at the same time as Lisbon lifted her head, causing the tips of their lips to touch. They paused for less then a second before jumping apart and scrambling from the hole. Lisbon was blushing furiously and Jane was sure he must look a little flustered himself; his lips still tingled where they had touched hers.

"We should go," she said, standing hastily and rushing towards the door. She was through to the other room before Jane had a chance to stand up.

"Lisbon!" He called after her, but she was already gone.


	4. Chapter 4: Boogeyman

**More weirdness ensures... Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. :) I promise more Jisbon in the next chapter. (not much in this one i'm afraid)**

~ Chapter 4 ~

Jane lay outside Lisbon's door, his legs stretched out in front of him, almost reaching the far wall. It was 4 am, an hour and a half since his almost-accidental-near-but not quite-kiss with Lisbon. He had been lying in the hall, head propped up against her door, ever since, remembering how adorable she had looked, sitting on the floor, cheeks flushed, hair mussed, like a teenager caught… well... kissing. Her T-shirt had slipped of one shoulder, exposing the smooth cream flesh above her right breast. He knew he shouldn't think of her like this but he couldn't get her out of his head. They had only paused for less then a second but they had paused all the same, his lips against hers.

Jane was pulled from his sweet thoughts of Lisbon by a strange squishy, slithering noise, like something large and wet was slinking down the hall below him. Something, green and slimy, covered in weeds and algae, crawling in and out of the unlocked rooms.  
He didn't know why that thought had come to mind, it was probably nothing. It was definitely nothing. Why on earth would he think of a slimy, supernatural boogeyman when it was most likely nothing more than a faulty water heater?  
Despite knowing this, it still put him on edge. He could hear it, whatever it was. Sliding up and down the hallway, leaving its trail along the floors and walls. Watching as it spreads across the ceiling, over the doors and windows, over sleeping people… Jane shook his head in an attempt to dispel the image from his mind.

He could hear it clearly now, slowly gliding up the stairs, its long claws grasping at the handrail and clawing at the carpet. He imagined its twisted, drooping face, collapsed on one side, dark holes where the eyes should be. Its mouth gaping, showing rows of long, sharp, piranha-like teeth, green slime oozing from the corners. He imagined it climbing the stairs, one by one, until it reached him lying by the door, until it devoured him.

Before he had even finished the thought, Jane was inside his room with the door securely locked behind him. He felt stupid for being afraid of something created by his own imagination but still he envisioned the monster slithering down the hall towards his room.  
Still thought he heard it outside his door.  
Still thought he heard it try the lock.

Jane sat against he far wall and stared at the door until morning.

***

When Rigsby woke the next morning, he found Jane asleep on the floor at the foot of the bed. Not that Jane was in the habit of sleeping in beds, often preferring the couch in Lisbon's office, or perhaps it was Lisbon he preferred. At that moment, Jane woke, lifting his head and hitting it on the wooden bed frame.

"Damn it!"

"Rough night?" Jane sat up, turning his head to find Rigsby sitting on the edge of the bed, looking amused.

"I should think so, considering who I was sharing a room with," he stood and headed for the bathroom, clothes in hand. "Those noises aren't natural. Seek help."

Lisbon woke early and had already dressed and showered before Van-Pelt had even opened an eye. It had been a long night, one that she did not feel was going to appear in Bravo's top 50 long nights, although it wasn't without its benefits. Drifting back to the brief moment Jane's lips had touched hers, she sighed at the memory before almost walking into a door. She mentally throttled her memory before she found a notice stuck to her door with a thumb-tack. It read

Breakfast Is served at 8:00.  
We have pancakes.

- Gustav

That was odd, she thought. The notice was stuck on the inside, and when she tried the door she found that it was indeed locked. She was quite sure that it had not been there when she had left the room last night, nor when she had come back. Although, it had been dark. Maybe she just hadn't noticed it. She shivered slightly as she remembered the events of the previous night, especially those involving Jane and a loose floorboard. She mentally slapped herself with a fish and began to get ready for breakfast.

***

The fog floated through the town like smoke form a cigarette, drifting silently over the streets and wrapping the buildings In its shadows. It filled the alleyways and dark, narrow avenues, and made even the most ordinary things seem out of place. Jane left the hotel expecting the hard, scorching sunlight of the scrubland, but instead suddenly found himself in a soft, muffled world covered in a magical white mist. Faded people glided over the sidewalks like ghosts, floating sluggishly past the white picket fences and neat rows of crocuses and primroses. They didn't stop, or change pace to admire a bush of beautiful red roses. No one paused to say hello to a neighbour, to comment on the weather or even exchange a look or nod. In fact, it was like they didn't see each other at all. He half expected to turn around and find that the hotel had been replaced with a fantasy landscape of moons and stars and that he was no longer on earth at all but floating through space.

"Jane!" called Cho from the top of the hotel steps. Even though he was only a few feet away, he was almost completely concealed by the fog. "Rigsby and I are going to find a gas station, hopefully we'll be able to leave in about half an hour," he continued.

"Yeah. Have you seen Lisbon?" Jane asked, when Cho was standing beside him.

"Not since breakfast, maybe she went back to her room," he suggested.

"Maybe" said Jane, looking up to see Rigsby leaving the hotel.

"Hey, lets find the gas station so we can get out of here. This place gives me the creeps." Rigsby said as he neared where Jane and Cho were standing.

"Me too," Cho agreed, "The way it just appeared out of nowhere, we couldn't possibly have missed a whole town." Rigsby and Cho walked down the street, leaving Jane standing alone in front of the hotel, and he suddenly felt rather small in comparison. When they had first entered the town, the hotel had looked quite small itself, but now, looking up at its mahogany doors and high windows, it gave the impression of something with great strength and power. There were two stone Lions on either side of the door, which almost seemed to glower and snarl at him as he made his way back up to the entrance. Jane strode passed them, and pretended that he didn't think he saw them slink towards him out of the corner of his eye.

***

Cho and Rigsby entered the small gas station and glanced over the various chocolate bars and magazines until they saw a teenage boy sitting behind the counter with his feet propped up in front of him, reading the latest edition of Sports Illustrated. He had long brown hair that hung just passed his shoulders and a cluster of pimples on his chin. He didn't look up as they approached him, nor when they stood in front of him at the counter. He finally raised his eyes to theirs after Cho faked a cough for the third time in an attempt to get his attention. The boy looked at them over the top of his magazine but did not venture a statement or observation, not a "How may I help you," or "What can I do for you this fine morning." Instead, he continued to stare at them, turning the page of his magazine without glancing down.

"Agents Rigsby and Cho, CBI," stated Rigsby, raising his badge. It wasn't entirely necessary as no crime had been committed, but it was something that became impulsive in an awkward situation.

"Never heard of it," Replied the boy, which was often the response in said situations, thus making it all the more awkward. This situation being especially awkward since the ID was not relevant in the first place.

"We just need a gas can." Cho intervened, seeing there was no other way to salvage the conversation with even a little dignity. The boy reached bellow the counter and Cho imagined him pulling out a gun or harpoon or maybe even a small canon, but he only pulled out a standard red gasoline can. Cho had found that happening a lot since they got here, imagining seemingly impossible scenarios without any real basis or relevance to the events taking place. Although it was odd that a gas can was placed so conveniently under the counter, and from the looks of things there wouldn't be room for much else.

"two dollars, fifty cents," the boy said, dropping the can on the counter. "and bring the can back," Cho paid for the gas and left, followed closely by Rigsby.

"That was weird," said Rigsby, when they were out the store.

"No weirder than the rest of this place." They quickly made the way down the street, which was once again deserted. Soon they made it passed the entrance sign, which shone brightly in the morning sun. All traces of the previous fog had since vanished, leaving Cho wondering if it had ever been there at all.  
As they approached the car, Cho unfastened the cap on the gasoline, letting it drip from the nozzle on the dry, cracked earth. He let it flow into the fuel tank, removing the nozzle from the car when the can was empty. Trying the key in the ignition, the car seemed to growl like a bear before spluttering like a guinea pig in a bath.

"What happened?" asked Rigsby, leaning through the open window. Cho checked the fuel gage.

"It's empty."

* * *

**So, the stone Lions are based on 'The Shining', but watcha gonna do?. (I'm Stephen King Obsessed)**


	5. Chapter 5: What it Truly Is

**Hey, bit more Jisbon on the way. :D**  
**I was wondering if people thought I should do longer chapters and update less frequently or carry on with the current chapter length.  
****(this one's 2,158 words)**

~ Chapter 5 ~

Jane climbed the stairs towards Lisbon's room, noticing the gold framed pictures along the wall. Most of them showed black and white portraits, their eyes staring, following him as he passed, each with a small plaque underneath displaying their names as well as birth and death dates in neat italic script. He glanced at them nervously, the way you would glance at a shadow in the corner of your eye that you could always see but was never quite there. They watched him silently.

As he reached the top of the stares he didn't look back. Didn't look to see the eyes staring, didn't look to see the lions snarling outside the door, didn't look to see the monster's long black claws grasp and snatch at the hem of his shirt. He walked on quickly to Lisbon's room, stumbling on several occasions. He was almost at the door, away from the eyes and lions and the monster that still slithered after him, still clutched at his clothes with misshapen hands. Almost there, almost…

"Why, Mr Jane. What a pleasure," Jane was stopped by Gustav who now stood in front of him. He was sure the hallway had been empty when he first reached it.  
He looked quickly over his shoulder. There were no claw marks scratched into the carpet and there were no trails of weeds and algae. The pictures still hung on the wall, their gaze trained on a distant object, and if he looked far enough, he could see the lions, sitting in their rightful place outside the door. Everything was how it should be, and yet everything was wrong, out of place. The sooner they left this place the better, he decided, turning back to the man in front of him.

"On your way to see Miss Lisbon, I presume." Gustav, continued, smiling broadly. Although Jane was sure it was meant as a pleasant gesture, it looked more demonic than friendly, like a cat that has a mouse trapped in a cage.

"Yes," he replied simply. He didn't trust this man and did not want to give him too much to work with. He was about to walk past when Gustav held out his arm to prevent him from passing. Jane looked at him, careful not to show any expression.

"She's quite lovely, don't you think?" said Gustav, looking straight ahead. Jane remained silent. "You'd be wise to keep her close to you, Mr Jane," he continued, now looking Jane in the eye, all traces of his previous good humour had vanished. "You never when she might just… disappear," and with that, he walked away. Jane stood in the hallway for a while longer after he left. He didn't remember ever telling the man his name, nor did her remember Lisbon telling him hers. He wanted to get out of here, and most of all, he wanted to get Lisbon out of here.

Entering Lisbon's room, he found her sitting on the windowsill at the far side of the room. She looked up when he came in, her eyes caught the light and sparkled with an intensity he had never noticed before. She really was lovely.  
The awkwardness between them was beginning to lift and Jane suspected that by the time they left it would be like nothing ever happened. He walked towards her and leant against the wall, looking out over the street.

"Jane… have you seen… or heard…anything…unusual?" He looked at her for a moment, studying her expression.

"What did you see?" He asked.

"Nothing," she replied, a little too quickly. "I didn't see anything."

"Come on, Lisbon. I'll find out anyway."

"I didn't see anything!" She repeated, more forcefully this time.

"It's ok, you can trust me," He refused to acknowledge the way his heart sank slightly when she averted her gaze.

"You know that right? We don't have to do another trust fall do we…"

"No. No more trust falls." Despite her irritation, it was clear something was bothering her. Maybe she heard the monster too, but that was impossible. There was no monster, there couldn't be. It was just the product of too many nights on the couch.

"Close your eyes," He instructed, sitting on the other side of the windowsill.

"Why?" She asked.

"Trust me."

She paused for a moment, but eventually closed her eyes. Jane took a moment to study her, the way her hair rested on her shoulders, the delicate curve of her jaw. Without realising, he began to lean closer, slowly closing the gap between them. He hovered over her, his hand pressed against the wall behind her for support. He could feel her breath against his lips, gliding across his cheek. Tilting his head to the side, he let his own eyes close, his lips almost touching hers…

"Boss," Rigsby called as he burst through the door, which swung and hit the wall with a loud thud. Jane jumped away from Lisbon and stood on the opposite side of the windowsill, his cheeks slightly flushed. Lisbon stayed sitting, not fully understanding what had just happened. If Rigsby had noticed Jane and Lisbon's previous position or how rapidly Jane had moved, then he didn't pause to consider it.

"The gas from the station wouldn't fill the tank. We poured all of it in but when we checked the fuel gage it said the tank was empty."

"So you're saying we're still stranded here?!" asked Jane, running his hand through his hair. He really wanted to leave and he was beginning to think there was something more sinister going on here. The way Gustav had talked about Lisbon still made him shudder.

"So what now?" asked Rigsby, alternating his gaze between Jane and Lisbon, neither of whom seemed to be especially surprised at what would appear to be an impossible situation.

"We could try the local police, an area as secluded as this would have to have a small police station of its own," offered Cho.

"I don't think we can trust anyone we meet here," said Jane, pushing away from the wall he had been leaning against, "but since we can't leave on our own, it seems we don't have much choice." He was sure the whole town was involved somehow, all co-conspirators in a plot he was yet to uncover, and he was beginning to doubt he ever would.  
Was this how it started? All those articles of people who had disappeared, people of which there was no evidence to show ever existed, and suddenly he realised it had already begun. From the moment they entered the town, from the moment they left their car, from the moment they reached the scrubland it was already to late.

"Where's Grace?" He asked, scanning the room as if she could be hiding behind a curtain or chair or crouching under the bed.

"I thought she was with you," replied Rigsby.

"Maybe she just went to get some fresh air," Cho suggested, but knew they would not find her walking through the streets nor would they find her sitting on the ornate silver bench in the hotel's garden, and he knew the others thought the same.  
Jane slumped back against the wall. They would not find her, and the town's residents would insist there was no one to find.

***

It was almost noon when Jane and Lisbon entered the Police Station. They were greeted by a dark haired man with a small beard side burns that ended parallel to the corners of his mouth. He was handsome in cold way and he wore a dark leather jacket, a police hat and dark glasses that reflected the room. To Jane he looked like he belonged in a 1990's prime time police drama rather than reality, however surreal their current reality may be.

"Well, what can I help you with?" he asked, standing from behind his desk and reaching over to shake their hands. "I'm Sheriff Harper, head of our town's police force,"

Not that it looked like much of a force. The station consisted of the desk Harper was standing behind, with a telephone, a half empty cup of coffee and various papers, and three poorly constructed jail cells, one with a bar missing.

"I'm Agent Lisbon and this is Mr. Jane, we're with the CBI," Lisbon replied, holding up her badge as evidence. "We broke down not far from here yesterday and the gas a member of my team bought from the gas station does not work in our engine, in fact, it failed to fill the engine at all."  
They had agreed not to mention Van-pelt. It would not serve any purpose and they would only be considered insane.

"Well now, that is strange," said the Sheriff, but in a way that implied it may not be strange at all. He walked out from behind his desk and came to stand in front of Lisbon. Jane could see Lisbon wanted to step back, to put as much space between the Sheriff and herself as she could, but she held her ground and looked at him warily as he continued.

"We do have a tow truck," he said slowly, leaning further towards Lisbon. "but I'm afraid it's being repaired at the moment," His face was now only inches away from hers and Jane was finding it hard to resist the urge to kick him in the head.

"It should be done by Thursday, if you just stick around for a couple of days I'd be happy to give you a lift to wherever it is you're going."

From the way Harper was eyeing Lisbon, Jane got the feeling he was using 'you' in the singular rather than the plural. He was sure the brazen Sheriff would be more than happy to personally escort Lisbon to her destination, just as he was sure that if Harper didn't move away from her pretty quick there was going to be a foot shaped bruise on the side of his head.

"Come by around ten O' Clock Thursday morning," Harper said, moving away from Lisbon and walking back round to the other side of the desk. Another Jane-related casualty prevented.

"Thank you Sheriff, it was nice meeting you," That was his Lisbon, thought Jane, always polite even to the most obvious of jerks.

"Believe me," Harper replied, "the pleasures all mine."

***

Lisbon was sitting on her bed when Jane entered her room. She looked up at him cautiously. It was 7:30 and they had been ushered in by Gustav who insisted it was not safe to be out at such hour. That was the town's policy; in fact it was the law. Anyone caught outside after seven would be considered dangerous and would spend a week in jail. Although, if someone was truly considered dangerous, they would be in prison for much longer than a week.

"Since Van-Pelt isn't here anymore," Jane started quietly, not really wanting to bring up the topic of Van-Pelt's disappearance. "I've decided I'm going to sleep in here with you. You're less likely to vanish if there's a witness."

"I don't need a babysitter Jane. I'll be fine on my own," Lisbon replied defiantly. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself"

"Only as capable as Van-Pelt," said Jane, jumping on to the bed, kicking of his shoes as he lay on his back, linking his hands behind his head as a make-shift pillow. Lisbon picked up his shoes from where they had landed, one at the foot of the bed and one by the chest of draws, and placed them neatly side by side against the wall.

"How do you know I won't disappear anyway, even with Super-Jane here to watch over me?" she asked, turning to face him. "How do you know I won't fall out of existence when you blink?"

"I told you before, people don't just disappear. I think those people were taken, and I'm not going to let them take you too," Jane replied, and stared at her until she nodded mutely.

He was really scared now, because now there was something that scared him more than the monster that slithered through the halls at night, more than the lions that snarled and scratched at the door, more than the pictures in the hall and more than looking up at the hotel and seeing it for what it really is.  
What scared him now was that none of those people had ever been found and there was a real chance that Lisbon might be taken from him, and it scared him more than he even realised.

**Not too pleased with this chapter but there are a few moments I like. Hope you enjoyed it anyway. :) The boogeymonster will be making a comeback in the next chapter. ^^**


	6. Chapter 6: To Kill A Mockingbird

**Not much talking in this chapter I'm afraid. :( More creepiness though, Yayz!  
I just thought I should update as it's been nearly a wee now.**

~ Chapter 6 ~

"Jane?"

"Yeah,"

"Are you awake?" Jane turned to face her, resting his head on his hand and supporting himself with his elbow.

"You do realise it was me who just said that right?" Lisbon laughed slightly, mimicking his position. They watched each other in silence for a moment, both considering the intimacy of their situation.

"What did you see?" Jane asked, finally breaking the silence. Lisbon sighed, she had hoped he might have let this go. She once again considered denying she saw anything, and technically that would be true as it was not what she saw that bothered her, but what she heard.

"I'm going to find out anyway so you might as well tell me."

"I heard voices, from outside." She replied, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Voices? You know that's the first sign of…"

"I know what it is. See, this is why I didn't want to tell you, I knew you'd just make fun of me!"

"I'm not making fun of you," Jane replied. Lisbon looked at him then, her guard slipping slightly when she saw his expression. "I would never make fun of you. I've heard things too, not voices, but I have heard things."

"and now Van-Pelt's missing and we're stuck her 'til Thursday."

"We're not leaving on Thursday. They're not ever going to let us leave, but you know that. We all know that," The defeated tone of his voice scared her a little, but not as much as knowing he was right. It was like the town was functioning as a single entity, one that intended to keep them here.

"We'll find her," Lisbon said, with a determined certainty which Jane envied. "We'll find her and then we're getting out of here."

Jane smiled at her, and while it was comforting, reassuring and even a little hopeful, she could see his smile was of someone who did not truly believe what she had said, no matter how much he wanted to. He placed his hand over hers, rubbing his thumb soothingly over the backs of her fingers as her eyes began to close.

***

He could hear it, he was sure he could hear it. Slithering through the halls almost without a sound, but not silent, because it wanted him to hear it, wanted him to know it was there. Wanted him to picture its gruesome, twisted face and its long, black claws scratching at the door, wanting him to let it in… and he was afraid he might.

Jane turned his attention to Lisbon who was sleeping peacefully next to him, his hand still rested on hers. He reached over and brushed her hair away from her face, letting the tips of his fingers linger on her cheek.  
His arm snaked around her waist, gently pulling her towards him until he could feel her body pressed against his and could nuzzle her cheek gently. He softly kissed the top of her nose, and felt her snuggle closer as his own eyes closed… but even then he heard it, as long as he was here he would always hear it, because it wanted him to hear.

***

Cho sat against the headboard of his bed reading Harper Lee's _'To Kill A Mockingbird'_and trying desperately to ignore Rigsby's grunts and snorts which sounded more like the desperate cries of a dying animal than any noise ever made by a man.  
Cho had always found that not mater how despairing or seemingly hopeless the situation was, it was nothing that could not be forgotten within the muted world of a good book. However, he now realised this was not the case. Something here was wrong, in fact, everything was wrong, or at least very few things right.

He placed the book on the nightstand, turned out the light and, lying back in the bed, he watched the corners of the pillows as they appeared at the edge of his vision. Letting his head sink further back into the pillow, he closed his eyes and waited for the soft mist of sleep the cloud the corners of his mind.  
Although, through the muffled daze, he became dimly aware of the unnerving sensation someone was watching him. He tried to ignore it, turned on his side, on his front and then back to his original position, but he could still feel the eyes of the unknown spectator, penetrating what was now a think fog.

Finally he opened his eyes, and though at first the room was blurred, like the careless brush strokes of a child's painting, the coloured shapes began to form a distorted image as if he was looking at the world through a kaleidoscope. The image twisted and curled until at last it morphed in to the room he remembered. Only there was something different, something he did not remember being there before.

On the wall opposite the bed, although partly concealed by shadows, hung a black and white portrait of a woman. Her dark hair was tied back in a bun and her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her lips, thin and a similar pallor to her skin, were turned down in a scowl. Despite her grim expression, it would seem to any guest who might have stayed in that room to be nothing more than a picture on the wall… nothing more than what it was… had it not been for the eyes.

For the eyes were what set it apart from any other picture he had ever seen. It was unlike the many pictures that were hung on the walls of the hotel, there was not even a picture that he had seen whilst visiting his aunt when he was seven, who had many religious images and objects, that could have had such a paralysing effect on him, and he was glad of it.  
Although it may have made the glare of the woman more bearable, there was no child who would ever retain their sanity under her gaze.

He tried to focus on the ornate canopy of the bed, or the thin cracks that ran along the top of the wall, forming Ys and Ws in the ceiling… but his eyes would always revert back to the portrait, and he could never quite remember just when his gaze had shifted.  
The third time he found himself looking back at the picture on the wall, he couldn't help feeling something had changed. The woman still held her hands in her lap, still wore the same grim expression… but something had changed. The image was bigger, not the frame or picture it self, but the image it showed was defiantly bigger this time. Bigger… or maybe closer.

The fourth, or maybe fifth time he glanced at the portrait, he could no longer see her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She was coming closer. In his mind, he saw her coming closer and closer until finally she climbed out the frame and staggered across the room towards him, eyes still glaring, mouth still scowling. But then the mouth opened.

Rows of sharp pointed teeth gnashed and snarled as she began to bark and growl, leaping onto the bed. She clawed at his face and eyes with long, twisted nails, the whites of her eyes turned a ghastly red and the iris and pupil were reduced to a small black dot in the centre.  
He saw her as clearly as he would if she were real, and this was what scared him. This is why the whole freaking town scared the shit out of him. He could no longer determine his own thoughts from what was really happening.

He tried to read his book once again, but when he picked it up he found words had been scribbled out in black biro ink.

_It was times like these when I thought my father, who hated guns and had never been to any wars,was the bravest man who ever lived.  
_Here the words bravest and lived were crossed out.

He turned the pages, shocked at the amount of words that were so violently crossed out.

_I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand.  
_Here, all words except 'a man with a gun in his hand' were crossed out.

As he turned more and more pages, more and more words were crossed, and he began to notice a pattern. Only the good words were crossed out, words like brave and courage, love and peace… leaving only words of hatred and violence. Quickly closing the book and almost throwing it back down on the night stand he found himself once again looking a the woman's portrait.

He heard himself scream, although he wasn't entirely aware of doing it, his eyes were wide and his mouth had dropped open.  
The woman's hands were pressed against the front of the frame, her palms were white and flattened against the glass. Her mouth was open, showing the rows of long pointed teeth he had imagined, and as he watched… her eyes turned red.

* * *

**I tried to cross out the words using HTML but everytime I tried to save it just reverted back to normal text. :(**  
**Reviews are very much appreciated.**


	7. Chapter 7: Never Touch Your Fears

**A bit of Jisbon Angst in this one. :D I would like to thank AngelOfDeath07 for reviewing all chapters since Chapter 3. ^^**  
**Thank you so much!**

~ Chapter 7 ~

Lisbon woke to find herself snuggled against Jane's chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her waist. At first, she lay motionless; truly surprised to find herself and Jane in such an intimate position, although considering the situation it should not have come as much of a surprise at all. She raised her eyes to Jane's face and jumped slightly when she realised he was awake. He looked at her with his eyes half closed and responded by smiling sleepily.

"Morning gorgeous," he said brightly, despite looking half asleep.

Lisbon quickly pulled out of his arms and slid over to the other side of the bed, almost falling off in the process. Jane's smile turned into a grin as he observed her shocked expression. It was nice to have this moment, before they fully remembered where they were or who they had lost.  
That thought made Jane's smile dim slightly.

Lisbon quickly grabbed the clothes she'd laid out on the chest at the foot of the bed and retreated into the bathroom. It wasn't long before Jane heard the sound of the shower and hazily wondered what her response would be if he decided to join her.

"Lisbon!" Rigsby pounded his fists against the door. "Jane! Let me in!"  
Jane quickly undid both bolts, though he would never admit he locked both to keep himself safe from a seemingly fictional monster. Rigsby flew through the door as soon as it opened, once again letting hit the wall and Jane was sure he heard it splinter.

"Rigsby? Are you ok?" Jane asked as Rigsby doubled over, supporting himself on his knees. He was panting heavily.

"I can't find Cho,"

Lisbon was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, halfway through drying her hair with a towel.  
"Where have you looked?" She asked, letting the towel drop to the floor.

"Everywhere, the breakfast room, the lobby, the gardens…"

"You can't have looked everywhere. Maybe he's in the town, maybe he went to look for Van-Pelt. We can go look for him now…"

"We won't find him." Jane said solemnly, "He's gone."  
Lisbon looked at him for a moment, his expression as defeated as it had been last night. It was so unlike him. She considered what he had said for a moment longer, then met his eyes defiantly.

"You're wrong!"

***

Lisbon looked up at the hotel and noticed how much it had changed since they first entered the town, but maybe it was only her perception that had changed. It loomed over her like a monster and almost seemed to grin at her with long Iron teeth. She backed away slightly, reminded of the times she used to walk passed an electricity pylon on the way to school. There had been a danger sign nailed to the steel fence that surrounded the pylon, depicting a man being electrocuted by an arrow shaped bolt of lightning. The sign read 'DANGER OF DEATH, KEEP OUT!'.

She had always been nervous walking past that fence, as if she could be electrocuted just by looking, and she could never quite bring herself to tough it, or run a stick along it like the other kids.  
Of course even then she knew no harm would come from touching the fence, the fence wasn't electrified. She knew she was in no danger, that even by climbing over the fence and walking right up to the pylon and kicking it she would most likely not come to any harm.

But she wouldn't touch it… she would never touch it, because it screamed danger, screamed death!  
The hotel was screaming at her now, the same way the fence had, the same way the pylon had… and she would not touch it.

She had been looking for Van-Pelt and Cho for over an hour now, she had even started asking round the neighbourhood, but with every person she asked she was met with the same blank stare. It wasn't that they hadn't seen either Van-Pelt or Cho, or even that their face was just expressionless. Each person had the same hollow eyes, like they were solid all the way though, with no feelings or emotions. She felt as though she was seeing into their soul, and yet finding there was no soul to see.

Rigsby had given up the search about half an hour ago, and Jane hadn't even bothered leaving the hotel. She hated what this was doing to him; he was usually so strong and passionate about things. She missed that. She missed his ability to form a solution to even the direst situations, she missed how he challenged her, how he contradicted her, the way his eyes sparkled whenever he had new plan. She missed his integrity, his charm, his humour, and she missed knowing that if she was in trouble, he would be doing everything he could to help her.

Cho had been missing for at least three hours and Van-Pelt for over a day, but he hadn't even tried to find them. He had been the one to insist that they not look for them, insisted that it would not do ay good, and she hated to admit that he was right.

Lisbon sat on the wall on the opposite side of the road from the hotel and rested her head I her hands. If she was taken, would he look for her? Would he even care? She looked up to find Jane standing in from of her, his eyes searching hers, already reading everything she thought she kept so well hidden.

"Did you find them?" he asked, keeping his face blank, and for a moment she saw the people of the town, their hollow eyes staring vacantly at hers.

"You know I didn't, and you knew I wouldn't. Don't patronise me Jane," she replied, with a resigned expression with was unsettlingly reminiscent of his own. She stood and was about to brush past him when he caught her wrist. He pulled her roughly against him, his face only inches from hers.

"Lisbon…" he whispered, and she felt his breath dance over her lips.

He released her wrist and his arms wrapped round her waist, pulling her closer until her head rested against his chest and his was nestled in the crook of her neck.

"I won't let anything happen to you. I promise!"

Lisbon slowly moved her arms from where they had been crushed against Jane's chest and rested them on his shoulders. They stood there for a while, and Jane contemplated whether what he had just said was within his power. After all, Cho had been with Rigsby, they were both strong, trained agents.  
Lisbon stepped back a little, and Jane quickly kissed her jaw before he pulled away, keeping his arms wrapped loosely around her waist.

"You mean so much to me Lisbon," he continued, reaching up to brush the backs of his fingers across her cheek. "You're always so strong and determined, and you've saved my ass more times than I can even remember." He said the last part with a small smile, but Lisbon did not return it.

"Why do you do this Jane?" she asked suddenly, and he looked genuinely confused. "One day you act like a complete jerk and the next you tell me how much you care about me, how you trust me. You lie to me and you manipulate me and then expect me to just forgive you when you say you're sorry, regardless of whether you even mean it."

Jane took a step back, letting his arms fall to his sides. He was used to her being angry, even to the point of her physically wanting to hit him, but he had never seen her look so hurt, so betrayed. He had never meant to hurt her.

"I risk everything for you and you don't even care. I've lied for you; always done everything I could to protect you. My career is constantly on the line because of what you do and you've never attempted to change or even consider what consequences your actions might have." She had moved closer towards him, forcing him to step back.

"But I kept going, I stuck with you because I hoped you would change, that one day you might actually listen to me. I've had it with your manipulation and your mind games." She dropped her arms, letting her shoulders sag and the anger in her eyes was easily overpowered by defeat.

"If we ever get out of here," she continued, half turning away for him. "I'm having you transferred, and if they won't move you then I'll have myself transferred."

"Lisbon, please…" He reached out to stop her but she was already half way across the road.

Her fear was gone now, and she strode into the hotel ignoring its screams. She didn't look back to see if Jane followed, or to see if her words had had any real effect on him. She hoped they had, but it was the same hope she felt every time he said sorry, every time his hand touched hers or their eyes met. She thought she heard him call her name a second time but she was already through the door.

Jane watched Lisbon disappear through the hotel doors, his arm still stretched out in front of him as if he could bring her back by power of will. He had never meant for her to feel this way, he only lied to her to protect her. He knew they disagreed on most things but had thought that they got along; he even thought she enjoyed working with him, that being mad at him was just an act.  
He made her smile and even laugh on a couple of occasions, and she was beautiful when she was happy. It was a shame she didn't smile more often.

Was that because of him? He had to admit that he did like to annoy her and to tease her, but it had always been good natured, he had certainly not intended to hurt her. What if she disappeared, if he woke up the next morning to find she'd been taken? What if he went up to her room now and she wasn't there?

At this thought Jane realised he was already walking though the hotel doors, for once not even glancing at the two stone lions, who appeared to remain still as if sensing he had no interest in them. He reached Lisbon's room and entered without knocking. Lisbon was stood in the centre of the room.

"Lisbon, I…" but she cut him off before he got the chance to finish his sentence.

"Rigsby's gone."

* * *

**I know two characters disappeared in one chapter, ah well.**  
**Hopefullymore Jisbon and creepiness to come.**


	8. Chapter 8: Love Until We Bleed

**Nothing much happens in this chapter I'm afraid. **** A whole lot of Jisbon though, not so sure if that's a good thing.  
I've got a stupid German exam next week. *grumbles***

~ Chapter 8 ~

_We're bound to linger on,  
We drink the fatal drop,  
Then love until we bleed… _

Jane and Lisbon sat on opposite sides of the bed, Jane with his legs stretched out in front of him and Lisbon with hers crossed, absentmindedly smoothing out the creases of her trousers. They sat in silence, both contemplating the hopeless nature of their current situation and neither wishing to voice their thoughts. After all, what good would it do?

Lisbon remembered her mother telling her how much talking helped, a problem shared is a problem halved. But Lisbon had never understood how this was supposed to work.

Her mother had died when she was in middle school, and she had told everybody, hoping each time to halve the pain she was feeling. But the pain never went away, not even a little. It only spread like a plague through those she told and all it achieved was pitying glances and floods of "I'm sorry" and "How dreadful".

And she had been ashamed, ashamed for bringing her misery to the people who were trying to help, people who had been happy. This was why she did not share her problems.

"Lisbon…" said Jane quietly, as if he was scared she might shatter if he spoke to loud. "If we see a way to escape from here, even if it means leaving Grace, Rigsby and Cho, you know we have to take it. We can't save them now"

Lisbon looked up at him quickly, her hair falling around her face as she did so. Even in the dim light, Jane could see she was appalled. Three of her agents were missing and she did not want to leave without them, she refused to leave without them.

"How can you say that? How could you just leave knowing we did nothing to help them? They are our friends!"

"They're gone Lisbon! You have to face that!" His voice rode to match hers.

"They're not gone. You said it yourself, people don't just vanish."

"But they can be taken, hidden, killed. If there's even the smallest chance I can get you out of here then I'm not going to let it go because you're too stubborn to see the truth. There's nothing we can do here and risking your own life isn't going to change that, it's not going to bring them back."

"Well, risking you're life won't bring your wife back and killing Red John won't bring your daughter back but that doesn't seem to stop you. Don't tell what I should do and don't tell me there's nothing I can do because you're just the same."

At first, Jane didn't reply, and the sudden silence that swallowed the room made them both realise how loud they had been shouting. They were both breathing heavily and had changed position so that they were facing each other. Jane had intended to shout back, to shake her until she saw how much he cared about her, but his expression softened when he saw the pain and desperation behind her anger.

"Please don't hate me for this Lisbon. I'm only trying to keep you safe…"

"I don't need you to keep me safe. I'm not helpless and I'm perfectly capable of looking out for myself." Lisbon straightened her back raised her chin so that she wasn't looking up to him.

"I don't doubt that for a second," Jane replied, "you're the strongest, smartest, and most determined woman I know." Jane shifted a little closer, "and then you're also sweet and caring, you always find something good to say about everyone. You're so generous and patient and you've put up with me longer then I thought anyone possibly could." His mouth smiled slightly but his eyes remained serious.

Jane reached over to brush Lisbon's hair away from her face, and although she flinched slightly, she didn't pull away. He let his fingers slide down her cheek until his hand cupped her jaw.

"And you are so beautiful." He finished, as his thump gently grazed her bottom lip. Lisbon pulled back slightly at that part, and Jane let his hand fall from her face.

"Beautiful?!" she scoffed, looking down at her hands which were now twisting around each other in her lap. "Don't think that flattery will get you anywhere Jane." She continued quietly, refusing to meet his gaze.

"It's not flattery if it's true."

Lisbon rolled her eyes, "Yeah, like you'd really think I was beautiful." She pulled back further and turned away from him, lying down on top of the covers.

"Of course I think you're beautiful. You're the most beautiful woman in the CBI building. Hell, you're the most beautiful woman in most buildings." Jane lay down next to her, propping his head up on his elbow. He was aware they were only changing the subject but that wasn't a bad thing, not really, and so he continued. "I'd ask you out if I wasn't sure you'd hit me."

"Please, you could have any gorgeous woman you wanted." Jane's smile widened as he leaned closer to whisper in her ear.

"Are you saying you think I'm cute?" Lisbon felt his breath tickle her ear and couldn't stop the blush she felt rising in her cheeks. "Because I think you're adorable when you blush." Jane suddenly realised how much he missed their usual banter, and though it was a little strained, it helped take his mind off everything.

Lisbon turned to face him, and his nose gently nudged hers as she moved. He lifted his hand to stroke her cheek but she pulled back before he reached her.

"Why are you doing this Jane?" The blush was still in her cheeks but it had diminished slightly, leaving only a light dusting of pink over the top. "Do you really think you can just charm my anger away?" and Jane saw the anger she was referring to begin to return.

"Do you think if you say I'm beautiful I'll forgive you?" Her voice was rising again. She wasn't quite shouting but Jane knew the easy banter he had tried to get back was long gone now, and it had only lead to another argument.

"I know I'm not pretty, and there are plenty of woman at the CBI who are far more beautiful than I'll ever be."

"I guess there are some who are beautiful in an obvious way."

"Yeah, because obvious beauty's the worst." Lisbon replied sarcastically.

"No, what I mean is there's nothing more to them. They're all either secretaries who were too stupid to get a real job or woman who slept their way into the CBI. Neither of which could find an explosion in Mission Impossible, and would instead insist on talking to it as if it understood and continue to ask it if it knew Die Hard 2!"

Jane moved so he was knelling in front of Lisbon. Her anger seemed to have subsided but he knew he had to choose his next words carefully.

"You're so much more than that."

"But no one cares about anything more than that, and this isn't even the point."

"Then what is?! Why won't you ever talk to me?! I'm not really physic."

"You may as well be. You know why I'm mad at you and don't try to deny it."

Jane opened his mouth to contradict her, he knew he could spout a whole speech on how he couldn't tell what she was thinking and how he respected her privacy… but it wouldn't be true.

"You think I'm manipulating you." He said simply.

"I don't see you denying it."

"It wouldn't do any good. You think I'm manipulating you, you think I'm lying to you, and so I am. Nothing I say will change your mind. It's a woman thing." Jane said this in such a matter of fact way that it made Lisbon want to smother him with a pillow, which Jane noticed was in her reach.

The way his eyes darted towards it before once again settling on her face made her wonder if he really could read her mind. Stupid moose-haired pain in the ass.

"You sure know how to tell a girl what she wants to hear," Lisbon deadpanned.

"It's part of my natural charm, but I did mean what I said before… and you are beautiful."

Lisbon sighed, "Why wont you let it go Jane? Why don't you ever let anything go?" Jane moved towards her and caught her wrist when she tried to pull away.

"If everybody let everything go then nothing would ever be resolved. I never meant to hurt you Lisbon, never."

Lisbon looked up at him, his face was only inches away from hers. "I know," she replied quietly, "Nobody ever means for these things to happen Jane, but you lie to me, and trick me and use me. I can never trust you." She tried to pull away again, but he held her wrist tighter.

"Maybe at first I only saw you as a way to Red John, but you mean so much more to me now, and I would never use you. You're the only friend I have."

"I'm not you're friend Jane, I'm your boss." The look of pain in his eyes almost made her regret what she'd said, almost. When she pulled back a third time he let her go.

Lisbon walked over to the window, wrapping her arms defensively around her chest. It was only 6:30 but it was already dark, the only light coming from the lanterns that danced above the street. She saw Jane's reflection appear behind hers and began to turn towards him, intending to push him away, but before she had a chance she felt his arms snake around her stomach, pulling her close against his body.

Jane's eyes met hers in the glass and he held her gaze while he used one hand to pull her hair over her shoulder and away from her neck, keeping the other arm wrapped around her. He gently nuzzled her neck before planting soft kisses along the line of her jaw.

"Jane… stop." He did, leaning his head against hers and waiting for her to continue.

"This is what I mean, Jane. You always think you can just make everything better but you can't. I want you to stop this before you do something we'll both regret."

"Would you regret this?" he asked, as she turned in his arms, but he didn't give her a chance to respond. As soon as she faced him, he tilted her jaw and gently captured her lips with his, letting one hand tangle in her hair while the other slid down her back, coming to rest on her backside.

As her mouth opened in surprise, Jane found his tongue slipping between her lips and running across the inside of her mouth. He moaned softly. She tasted so sweet and warm, and despite her best efforts, Lisbon found herself responding. Her mouth moved against his and she nipped gently at his bottom lip.

When Jane reluctantly pulled away, they were both panting, and he saw her lips were as swollen as he supposed his were. He softly pressed his lips against hers before pulling back completely.

"You are so very beautiful Lisbon, and you mean more to me than I thought anyone ever would."

Lisbon nodded mutely, unable to form a verbal response. Jane silently led her back to the bed and they lay down in each others arms.

"I honestly don't know what I'd do if I lost you," Jane murmured against her hair.

_And I will find a home,  
because we love 'till the end,  
love 'till the end of the day… _

**Sorry this chapter is so pointless and out of character. I spent two hours straight writing without really reading and I didn't have the heart to delete it all, but when I read it back even I was thinking get on with it already.  
I promise I'll move the plot along in the next one. **

**Also, no offense to any secretaries. I'm sure it's hard, demanding work.**


	9. Chapter 9: The Doors Not A Wall Anymore

**The chapter title is a quote taken from 'The Plague Dogs'. I was in the middle of a major writers block so I thought I'd read for inspiration. **** I've always loved that book. Anywho, got the creepiness going again, I've missed it.**

~ Chapter 9 ~

I often pity the human race, for they are the only animal on their planet, or any other planet, that understands mortality. Though they take great pride in their knowledge, they also have great difficulty accepting what they know. They live and they die… and that is all. But mostly, they refuse to recognize that this is it, this is their world, and it is a mortal world and nothing more.  
But they dream of a better place, a better life. They have created a whole world outside their own where they can live forever in paradise, without the worries that trouble a mortal mind. A world without war and famine, without pain or suffering, where they are given perfect golden wings.

Their paradise, of course, is only fictional. There could never be a world without sorrow. I could make one, I think, if I really wanted, but it should not be so. For if there was nothing to demonstrate sorrow, if there were no wars and no poverty, how would they ever understand happiness. They can only exist in the realms of each other, without happiness there would be no sorrow, but without sorrow there would be no happiness.

And I realise that there will be some who never experience true happiness, and part of me feels for them… but if I change one thing, if I make one life better, why not the rest? I can not choose who should be happy and who should not, who should live and who should not.

I understand this may seem cold to you, heartless, for you are mortal, as they all are. You know the horrors of your world in a depth I could never experience… but if you'd lived as long as I have... you might realise death isn't such a bad thing, not really.

For I am immortal, and if you would only accept your mortality, maybe death wouldn't be such a burden to you, as life has become to me.

Jane watched as the lanterns danced back and forth, casting mystical shadows on the streets bellow. He found the movement almost hypnotic, both eerie and beautiful, though he always kept Lisbon's reflection in sight. She lay on the bed, her hair spread across the sheets, surrounding her face in a dark halo. The covers were crumpled towards the foot of the bed, resting in a heap and only just covering her ankles.

Jane smiled softly as he turned to face her sleeping form, leaving the light of the lanterns nipping and scraping at the window pane. He sat beside her, gently cupping her cheek in his hand and running his thump affectionately across her lower lip. He wasn't used to seeing her look so peaceful. She was always the one in control, always there to save him… but looking at her now he saw how vulnerable she was.  
She was strong, of course, but they had never before been conspired against on such a level as this. Conspired against by an enemy so allusive it almost seemed to be supernatural, as if the whole town was controlled by a single mind.  
And he was uncertain as to whether Lisbon really saw how dark this town had become. They were living inside their enemy, and it would keep them there.

She had convinced herself there was still a way out, that they would find Van-Pelt, Cho, and Rigsby and that they would be ok. It was an vision he envied, and he wished, even if just for a second, he could share her optimism. It was in this sense that, despite her strength and intelligence, she was also naïve, but this was not a bad thing. He saw it as one of her most charming qualities. She was not delusional by any means, but she had a clear view of how things should be and she would do whatever she could to make it so.

Leaning down, he kissed her softly, gently sucking on her bottom lip before letting his tongue slide across it. Her eyes fluttered open at the contact and she moaned lightly against his lips. Jane pulled back, kissing the tip of her nose as he did so.

"Lisbon…" Jane started, covering her hand with his, "I know you won't leave without knowing you at least did everything you could to save your team, I accept that and I promise that I will do everything I can to help you… but you need to know that you are my priority. I'm not going to let you risk your life."

Lisbon nodded slowly, dropping her gaze from his face, and Jane suspected that, if it came to it, she had every intention of risking her life. But he kept quiet, simply brushing his lips against hers in a series of light kisses.

"I stand by what I said before, we're not going to find them here," He tilted her chin slightly so she would be forced to meet his eyes, "But I guess it might be worth looking around."  
Jane was ashamed to admit he had previously avoided the other rooms of the hotel simply because he was afraid. Of course he knew they would not find them there, he was sure of that, but that didn't mean they wouldn't find anything. They should have searched the hotel from top to bottom when they had first discovered Van-Pelt was missing, and then searched again several more times. It had been selfish of him and now Cho and Rigsby were gone too.  
Although it was interesting to see how much his thoughts and opinions influenced the rest of the team's actions, or more specifically, Lisbon's actions.

He pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms protectively around her waist and resting his chin on top of her head.

"No matter what happens, I promise I'll keep you safe."

Although Lisbon considered Jane's protection unnecessary, and was about to voice her opinion, she found his words comforting, and so said nothing. Laying her head against his chest, she curled her hands around his neck and listened as the voices faded in the growing sunlight and a faint orange glow began to mark the horizon.

Jane walked briskly along the dimly lit corridor, trying the handle of each door in turn and finding them all to be locked. There was a strange feeling, much like he had felt when he had stepped out in to the soft morning mist a few days ago. A feeling of fantasy, a feeling that these were not rooms at all, but only doors. Doors that didn't lead anywhere or perhaps lead to each other in a twisting maze of time. Revealing nothing more than a wall ever would or 42 would ever reveal about the reason for our existence.

Lisbon followed behind him, jogging slightly every now and then to ensure she didn't loose sight of him. It was about 6:00 in the morning and though she was not one to stay in bed 'till noon, she was still not used to running up and down poorly heated corridors in her pyjamas. For such a small hotel it sure did have a lot of doors, a lot of locked doors.

She looked up at the numbers as they passed. 142, 143, 144… and the rooms they had been staying in were numbered 27 and 28. There couldn't possible be so many rooms. They reached the end of the corridor which then split two ways, like a crossroad.  
Jane turned left without hesitation, and the numbers continued, although leaving a gap from the previous corridor. 189, 190, 191… presumably numbers 145 to 188 would be in the other direction. But then what would happen when that corridor split, just as the previous had and just as the current was doing now.

Jane turned right this time and started to move a little faster, causing Lisbon to have to run to catch up to him. 256, 257, 259… wait, that wasn't right. 260, 262, 264… Lisbon watched the numbers whirl passed. The gaps were becoming larger and more frequent.

270, 275, 281… She tried to call to Jane, to tell him something was wrong, but her cry was silent. Though even if she could have called, attracted his attention, he was to far ahead to hear her. She broke into a run, screaming silently as he grew further and further away, and the numbers blurred passed. 265, 257, 243… they were going backwards now, or maybe they were counting down.

She could no longer see Jane. The hallway swirled around her, it's colours mixing and blending as if the walls were melting. The floor began to move under her feet, bunching and sliding as she tried to stop, tried to breath.

She slipped and fell into one of the doors. In the vibrant mix of colour she was dimly aware the door was opening, spilling it's darkness across the floor and over her body. Drowning her, sticking to her like tar and slowly taking the air from her lungs. She felt herself being sucked into the doorway, pulled by the dark which climbed the walls and spread itself over the ceiling, watching as she disappeared beneath it…

… for the door's not a wall anymore.

"Lisbon… Lisbon!" Jane ran to where Lisbon's limp form was sprawled on the floor. Crouching down, he pulled her against his chest, cradling her in his arms. He should never have let her out of his sight, he should have kept her close to him, held on to her. He had been going to fast, he remembered how the shadows had crawled along the walls, licking at his heels. They had whispered to him, and when he turned he saw Lisbon collapse, and he was sure he saw something slither through one of the doors. Something wet and slippery, with long black claws.

Jane sat against the wall, pulling Lisbon closer and staring at the door on the opposite side of the hallway. It was open, just a crack, but it was open and he was sure he had tried the handle just as he had tried the handle on all the other doors. The lights flickered and dimmed slightly. There were no windows in the corridor. He was sure he heard it, just behind the door… and it wanted him to hear it, wanted him to know it was waiting, that it nearly took her.

Lisbon's eyes began to flutter open and he felt her move a little closer, resting her hands on his shoulders. She looked up at him and blinked a few times, trying to bring his face into focus.

"Jane? What happened?"

Jane looked over at the door, the crack was wider than it had been before, and now he was sure the beast was coming. The weak light from the hallway had begun to spill on to the dark carpet of the other room, illuminating areas that had been clawed and scratched… and something glistened in the shadows, like an eye.

"We need to leave." Jane stood suddenly, pulling Lisbon with him. He grasped her upper arms and tugged her against him until his face was only inches from hers.  
"Lisbon, listen to me. There is something in that room and it nearly took you from me." Jane glanced at the room again, the door had opened further. "We need to run, and whatever you do, don't look back!" He looked at the door, almost half open, and he could hear the heavy breathing of the beast.

"RUN!" Jane grabbed Lisbon's hand and pulled her behind him. He heard something crash against the wall, it's claws tearing at the paper as it propelled itself towards them… and Lisbon heard it too. _Don't look back, don't look back ._His words chanted in her head, spinning and twirling like a dance. _Don't look back, don't look back. _Just one glance, surely that wouldn't hurt. _Don't look back! _  
There was nothing there, no one there.  
_Don't look back!  
_She had to see, had to know what was chasing them. Nothing was chasing them.  
_Don't look back!_  
Her head turned, just one look, just for a second. She had to see!  
_Don't, please don't…  
_Her eyes widened and her mouth opened to scream. She tried to turn away, look away but she had seen, just one look, just for a second but a second to long. She felt Jane's hand slip from hers, heard him call her name and watched him from afar.  
_Don't look back…_

**Think I'm finally managing to move the plot along again. Yayz! :D Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. **


	10. Chapter 10: Runcible Spoon

**This just keeps getting weirder and weirder. I should really change the category to supernatural (but I still like to think of it as a mystery). Sorry about the weirdyness. :S I'll try to reform if I write another story.**

~ Chapter 10 ~

Jane winced as he hit the floor, his fall only very slightly cushioned by the thin, patterned carpet of the corridor. He immediately scrambled to his feet, looking frantically left and then right. The pale orange light that dimly illuminated the hallway showed his surroundings as best it could. The beast was gone, and so was Lisbon.

"Lisbon!" He shouted, running back in the direction he thought they had come from, listening as the echo of his cries sprung and bounded across the walls. "LISBON!" He shouted again, but there was no reply. The muffled sounds of his footsteps seemed to roar and thunder in the deserted corridor, he was alone. She wasn't here. _She was never here…_  
Jane spun around to see a dark figure at the far end of the hall, their face concealed by shadows.

"Lisbon?" He knew it wasn't her, it couldn't be her… but it was like dialling the number of a friend and still saying their name in confusion even when its clear that the stern, gruff voice on the other end of the phone could not belong to them. It was hope.

_You will not find her here, she was never here…_

"Who are you?" Jane asked, but he did not approach the figure.

_The question is who… are you?_

The voice of the figure was distorted, as if they were talking over a radio. There was no way of knowing if it was male or female. The shape of the figure became warped and began to flicker, much like an old TV set, and was then as it had been before, although maybe a little closer.

_I doubt you even know, but then, who does… really…_

"Tell me who you are, or at least your name if you have one."

_You have but to know an object by its proper name for it to lose its dangerous magic…but you… I know you…_

"Then tell me who I am, if you're so sure," Jane took a step towards the dark form, his usual façade sliding into place. This creature was not human, of that he was certain, but that did not necessarily meant it was something to be feared. So he would play his game, and by his rules, to an extent. Until he found what he needed.

_Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You - - You are the embodiment of the information you choose to accept - - You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…_

"Why do you speak in quotes and riddles? You say you know me but you can't even tell me my name."

_What's in a name? That which we call a rose,  
By any other name would smell as sweet…_

The figure flickered again, it's shape shifting and twisting, and once again it moved a little closer. Jane had grown accustomed to the dream-like occurrences within the hotel and he was not surprised by the stranger's behaviour, but this did not denote that he was by any means comfortable with it. He was used to always being one step ahead, and he found the nature of his current conversation to be slightly unsettling.

_I know of you what I need to know, and that is enough… and I know of you sweet Teresa, and that she is what you seek…_

"Lisbon? Tell me where she is, where did they take her?" Jane moved toward the figure and the figure flickered and moved jumpily towards him, the same way an old tape would jump, missing out sections.

_They sailed away, for a year and a day,  
To the land where the Bong-tree grows…_

"Stop that, tell me where she is!" Jane was face to face with the figure now, and he could see it was wearing a black hooded cloak which it wrapped around its front, concealing its body. It had no head, and in the space where the head would be it held a plain white mask, and it was the mask that was talking.

_There she blows!--there she blows…_

"Where?" Jane pleaded and the masked stranger looked upon him with and expression of both pity and grief.

_The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes…We are all connected, I so desperately wish we knew it…  
Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!_

"Please, tell me what you know."

The masked figure began to fade, its cloak disintegrating until only the mask was left, and then that to was gone.

_And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,  
They danced by the light of the moon, the moon…  
They danced by the light of the moon…_

Lisbon awoke in a what would appear to be a great library, with an impossibly high ceiling and many shelves of books that nearly reached it. Each row was neatly stacked, and every book was in its rightful place. She lifted her head from where it was resting against the arm of a red, cushioned chair, placed on a rug in front of a small fire. Next to the chair was an old, shallow table and on top she saw two well-used books but the titles were too faded for her to read.

Her eyes drifted back to the fire, which at first had not seemed any more significant than any other aspect of the room, but now she felt herself drawn towards it's flames. They curled and licked at the grate, dancing gracefully across each other. As she continued to watch, she thought the flames were beginning to form shapes, warped and distorted at first, but then something more solid… and the more she thought them to be real, the more alive they became. Small figures that ran and jumped through the smoke, their fiery bodies separating and then reforming as they leapt between the flames.

"They're rather beautiful, don't you think?" Lisbon turned to find the owner of the voice, her hair swirling around her face. Gustav stood behind her, his hand resting against the edge of the chair.

"They're my people," he continued, gazing fondly at the fire, "I keep them safe. They hate me for it and they will make that known one day or another, but for now, they belong to me." He came to stand in front of her, his hands on either side of the chair, preventing her from rising.

"My true name is Dance, if you want to know, and although that was a long time ago, I like to keep it. There is a great power in names you know… Teresa." She felt the back of his hand lightly stroke her cheek. "I knew it was one of you, but you were always so close together, but now I see you. How could I have missed it? There is not a movement or glance or breath that does not betray you. Maybe I'm finally getting old." He chuckled slightly, taking her hands and gently pulling her from the chair. She did not resist, instead allowing herself to fall against him and rest her hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist.

"You are different from the others. You are one of them, I do not doubt that, but you are something greater, something powerful. You are the last, and it would be the last in the world to set them free."

She listened silently, aware that she was not quite herself and that this was indeed the man who had taken her, who had taken her team, but she did not feel any desire to pull away. She felt safe, comforted, as if the world was melting away. She felt no confusion over what she heard, even though what he said made little or no sense… but there was something. Something flickering at the back of her mind, like a low, consistent buzzing.

It vibrated throughout her thoughts, murmuring and glistening against her subconscious. She couldn't ignore it, or block it out, but it wasn't loud enough to really hear the words that were said. Occasionally she caught the odd word, somewhere or searching, but could never form a sentence or even put two words together.

She felt herself begin to fall, her eyelids drooping as a dull mist lightly covered her mind. No, she thought, trying to clear the haze in her head but it only grew, thickening as is ran over her thoughts like oil. I mustn't fall asleep.  
_Sleep…_  
She tried to focus on the buzzing but it was starting to fade. She clutched at it desperately as she felt herself slipping , falling, further and further away. Soon it was just a faint drone and then she could no longer hear it at all.  
_Sleep…  
_No, I mustn't… I need to… I have to…  
_Sleep…  
_No…

Jane stood in the place the masked stranger had just been. He had tried to help, Jane thought, but all he knew were songs and rhymes. Had he even known where Lisbon was?, or was it just another of his riddles? He had said she wasn't here, and he had said it with such certainty that Jane believed him to be telling the truth to the best of his ability. But if she was not here, where was she, and by what evil force was she taken? Because her knew now that whatever had taken her was not of this world, or any world discovered by man.

He wanted so much for this to all be a dream, that he would wake up now, as he always did, to find himself on his couch, and find her sitting at her desk… but he remained, and he knew he would not wake. He had promised, promised to take care of her. He knew then that she would not accept his protection, just as she would not hold it against him now, and yet he longed for her forgiveness, or simply to see her face.

He realised he was walking down the hall, and must have been for a while now. He did not know where he was going, but then he wouldn't have known how to get there if he did. Every hallway looked the same, every doorway looked the same, same patterned carpet, same rough ceiling.

He watched his shadow dance over the walls, wavering over the doorframe and casting a dull shade over the shiny silver numbers. As he watched, he was sure he saw it warp slightly, briefly changing its shape, and then reforming. And had it not been for the beast, the pictures, the lions and the overall strange, dreamlike behaviour of the hotel, he may have paid it no mind.

He watched intently, and as the shadow shimmered over the door, it morphed again, this time to a more distinctive shape, and it stayed.

Lisbon woke again, blinking as she tried to focus on her blurred surroundings. Everything was fuzzy, swirling around her like smudged waves of colour. If she could only think straight, but the flies, they buzzed and hummed in her head, and they would not let her be.

"I see you are awake," Lisbon looked up to see Gustav, or Dance, or whoever he was, standing over her, but his image had been broken. She could not see his whole figure. As the room became clearer, she saw she was in a large golden cage, one that looked like it might once have held a bird, and the man's figure was broken by its bars. Despite her prison, Lisbon still felt no anger or even worry. Everything seemed to fit, everything it its right place.

Dance waves his hand in front of her eyes and receives no response. "Just as I thought," he continues, "I have most of you, enough for now at any rate, but there is still something…" he reaches though the bars and gently cups her cheek in her hand. Part of her tells her to pull away, tells her to scream, to fight… but she remains still.

"You see my dear Teresa, you are not all here. Part of you has been left behind and until I retrieve it you will not be complete and so I, in turn, will not be complete. The mortal, he has taken a piece of you and that piece is with him yet. He will not give it up easily." He removed his hand, withdrawing from the bars of the cage.

"You must understand, I only want what's best for you. You may not see it now but you will realise, in time, that we are not so different, you and I. For we have both known the mortal world and it is not a world that leaves us easily. But you are better off here ,they would kill you if they knew what you are, you're safe with me, where they can't get to you." He looked at her affectionately, and that same part of her was telling her to run, to never look back.  
_Don't look back…  
_But she only sat mutely, unable to act upon the voice's wishes even if she had wanted to. If she could only think straight… but the flies, they buzzed in her head.

**Not too sure why I went with flies. There's one annoying me right now though. **** The quotes at the beginning or the chapter are from Alice In Wonderland, Romeo and Juliet, Moby Dick, Hound of the Baskervilles and The Owl and the Pussy-cat (from which this chapter also takes it's name). **


	11. Chapter 11: The Last In The World

**Final chapter. *wipes brow* This is my longest yet. Its not the ending I originally planned but I think I still like it. I like Jane's ending thoughts anyway. :D**

Chapter 11

Jane watched his shadow twist and shudder, moving independently until it took an entirely different shape to his own. It grew until it reached from the floor to the ceiling and stretched across the wall, creating a dim layer of shade. The shadow darkened, increasing its intensity until it was completely black, like a gaping mouth in the wall. All to similar to the mouth of the beast. The monster who had taken Lisbon.  
_Not a monster, its not real, it can't be real…  
_Jane moved cautiously toward the hole, it seemed to pulse as he moved, beckoning him closer. Hesitantly, he reached out his hand and lightly touched its filmy surface, and it rippled eagerly in response. He felt it watching him, mocking him. It knew he was afraid and it fed off it, taking strength from his fear until it became invincible. It would lead to the beast…  
_Not a beast, not real, nothing's real…  
_but then if it did, it would also lead to Lisbon.

Jane shut his eyes as he leaped through the mouth of the wall, and it swallowed him with its sinister jaws. He fell through a static world, yet without enough light to see by he felt as if he was weightless, and he supposed it was quite possible that this could be the case. He had come to expect what he would otherwise deem to be impossible.

Falling, it felt like he was always he was always falling. It was one of things he most despised about this place, about the whole town. They had taken control from him and he was powerless to stop anything they might do…  
but it would not stop him from trying, not anymore. He owed Lisbon that much.

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Lisbon's eyelids fluttered open, it seemed to her that she was always drifting in and out of consciousness, and each time she woke the flies buzzed in her head. Her surroundings had not changed, which they sometimes did, and she found she was still slouched awkwardly against the bars of her prison.

"It is time," said her capturer, who stood with his back to her, watching the fire as he so often was.

At that moment, the far wall darkened, creating a hole of shadows that seemed to ooze power and it mocked her with its disturbing authority. It spat Jane across the floor, as if disgusted he was even in its presence, as if none of then could ever be worthy its company. And it left as swiftly as it had appeared.

Jane lay still on the floor, and for a brief moment Lisbon felt a sickening dread form in her stomach and begin seeping throughout her body, and she almost didn't want to acknowledge the immense relief she felt as he lifted his head and staggered to his feet.

"Mr. Jane, a pleasure as always," His words were emotionless, his face expressionless, and for a moment, Lisbon was reminded of the townspeople. Their dark, hollow eyes, always watching but never quite seeing what was there. They were not real, _(none of this is real)_, they were only a means of filling space. A way to create an illusion of some vague sense of normalcy, of reality.

Jane's eyes quickly scanned the room, darting over the neat rows of books concealing their stories and poems. _(They sailed away for a year and a day)_He blinked a few times in an attempt to stop the room from spinning, the whirls of reds and oranges were threatening to claim his consciousness. _(oranges and lemons)_He pushed himself away from the chair he had been leaning against for support and almost fell against the cage. _(hand in hand on the edge of the sand)_

"Lisbon!" Jane's face lit up in recognition but his expression still held worry and confusion. Lisbon wished she could respond but both her mind and body seemed incapable, and the flies still buzzed in her head.

Jane was now slumped against the bars of the cage, gripping them to keep himself from falling and obviously exhausted. Lisbon only sat, huddled in the far corner of her prison and she hoped she could portray her emotions with her eyes.

"Teresa…" he whispered.

"She does no longer go by what you call her. She is nameless, as I am, and the sooner she forgets what she was the better. For I can never forget, and I would give anything in the world for just the chance to do so. I remember my name but who is there to call me by it?" His words were filled with such sadness Jane found himself almost feeling pity for the strange man.

"Is that why you took them? Because you're lonely?"

"I rescued them. The mortal world is no place for the immortal."

"What about Van-pelt, and Rigsby and Cho? Did you rescue them too?" Jane asked sarcastically, trying to glare at him but he only felt his eyelids droop.

"They were mistakes, and they will be returned in time." He watched as Jane's legs gave way and he slid down the side of the cage. "You are not meant for this world Mr. Jane, just as we are not meant for yours. Its draining you."

"She is not like you. She does not belong here, there is no here." _(not real nothings real)_

"You think she's like you?" he asked in disgust. "A mortal? Is that what you take her for, IS THAT WHAT YOU SEE?" He moved so he was standing in front of Jane, he was not a particularly tall man but from the floor he looked incredibly intimidating.

"I'm not looking to challenge you," Jane said calmly, forcing his eyes to stay open. "but you have taken so many others… let her go."

"You are not wrong, I do have many. In fact, she is the last." He looked over at her fondly, and Lisbon continued to stare ahead of her. Her brow furrowed in concentration, as if trying to remember something from long ago.

"and what did you intend to do with her? Keep her in a cage?" Jane asked, not even trying to mask the obvious distain in his voice.

"Only temporarily, you see, you have something of hers and until you release it she will remain incomplete. Your body is dying Mr. Jane, and the part of her you hold will be free once you're gone and will naturally return to its home."

Jane looked over at Lisbon, she seemed so lost and vulnerable, crouched in the corner of the cage. He had never seen her like this, she was always so strong, after all, she had to compensate for him, and it was breaking him to see her look so scared. So small… but he could feel his body dying all around him.

"Teresa…" His voice came out as a croak, barely audible. "Teresa," he tried again, a little louder this time but he felt that he could be shouting and screaming her name and she would still not hear him.

Lisbon was aware he was speaking to her but the flies were buzzing louder, covering his words. If she could only think clearly. _Teresa,_ She heard the word, but it was not a word she knew, the flies would not let her remember. _Teresa, _There it was again, it was beginning to seem so familiar. _Teresa_, Teresa… Teresa… it was her name. Her name. How could she have possibly forgotten her own name?

"Teresa!" Jane's voice was becoming louder, though he felt it was only draining his strength faster.

"Stop that! She is not what you call her, she is nameless, we are all nameless here." The sudden fear in the man's expression gave Jane a little hope, not much, but enough, even if he didn't really understand it… and he smiled…

"because you have only to know someone by their true name for them to loose their dangerous magic…" Jane remembered the words of the masked stranger, maybe he had been trying to help him after all. He was vaguely aware of the fire raging, spreading across the room and burning its content. Its people dancing over the yellowing pages of the faded books, scorching their words.  
_Not people, not real, nothings real…_

"I knew this would come," the man shouted into the flames, "For she is the last… but you will remember, you will always remember."

Jane felt his eyelids slide shut, blocking out the flames that licked at his skin. He thought he heard someone call his name, but it was a blurred thought, like that of a dream. He did not fight as his heartbeat slowed, only feeling a soft hand covering his own and a voice whispering his name.

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Jane stood on a clear white beach and watched as the waves slid over the sand towards him, before retreating back into the ocean. The sky was a pure unbroken blue and its colour was beautifully mirrored in the water. It was a peaceful scene, and yet held the same eerie dreamlike qualities of the hotel. It was to perfect, to clean. He did not deserve such a world.

_No one does really, we are all at fault…_

Jane turned to see the masked stranger standing behind him, his dark coloured robes a stark contrast to the pure beach.  
"I was under the impression you thought we were very different, but now you refer to us both within one sentence." He said, as he turned away from the figure, once again letting his eyes drift over the horizon.

_It is true that you cannot compare two things that by their nature are not comparable, but maybe we are not so different…_

"This isn't real is it," it was not a question, and for a while the mask remained silent, but Jane did not turn to observe its thoughts.

_It is as real as you are, but then that is no real answer. It may be more appropriate to say you are as real as this world…but it is not yours either way…_

Jane contemplated what the mask had said as the figure moved to stand beside him, not flickering, but gliding. A soft mist rolled over the sand, covering Jane's footprints.

_You were never meant to be here, it was created by those who could not accept what they knew, and to them this world is as real as it needs to be…  
Nothing truly exists…you can not stay here…_

"Are you really an angel?"

_I can be, if that is what you choose…_

"I'd like that." They stood in silence for a while, it was easy to become lost within the waves. Jane felt them drawing him, and soon he felt their soft foam sliding over his feet. Looking back, he saw he was quite far away from where the masked figure stood.

_This world will be gone soon, and I with it, but remember… we are as real as you are… all of us…_

The water rose, first splashing around his ankles but soon making its way towards his middle.

_We will not meet again…_

"Not in this world, but maybe in another,"

_There is no other, you have your world and it is what it is… nothing more…nothing more…  
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting…  
Nothing exists here but you, and you are but a thought..._

"I know… I know," Jane whispered as the water covered him completely, the waves crashing above him as he slipped below. Falling… but then he was always falling.

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"Jane, Jane!" His eyes opened slowly as the sound of his name and grew wide as he tried to focus. He was aware of someone leaning over him, their hair falling across his face. Lisbon…

"Lisbon!" He sat up so suddenly his head nearly collided with hers, and immediately pulled her into a hug. "You have no idea how good it is to see you!" As he looked over her shoulder to observe his surroundings, he found that he was in a hospital bed, and not a comfortable one. Lisbon pulled away from him, a little startled at his unexpected outburst, well, not quite an outburst but it was unexpected all the same.

"Where are the others, are they ok?" He questioned frantically, looking around the room again as if he thought he might have missed them the first time.

"They're fine, a little confused, but otherwise ok. They were released from hospital a few days ago. Apparently we had some sort of joint hallucination brought on by chemicals released by a fungus." Lisbon shrugged.

Jane now realised that Lisbon was wearing a pale blue hospital gown similar to his own, and somehow found himself wondering if she was wearing any underwear.

"Are you ok?" he asked tentatively, reaching up to stroke her cheek and shaking his previous thoughts from his mind.

"Again, a little confused, but good enough." Jane let his hand linger on her cheek a little longer before dropping it to his side. Hallucination, that was an interesting way of putting it. He smiled to himself. But if that's what the doctors had told her then that was what she would believe. He, on the other hand…

"To be honest, I don't really remember much of it."

"No? What do you remember?"

"I remember a hotel, you and the team, fire… there was a buzzing. That's it really." Lisbon thought she saw a flash of disappointment cross Jane's face before he masked it with his charming smile.

"Really, that's it? Are you sure?" Jane held Lisbon's gaze, a slight tone of disbelief in his voice. She twisted her head to the side in confusion but still kept her eyes on his.

"I'm sure," _Liar, _Jane thought.

"Well then maybe I should jog your memory," Before she could form a response, he quickly leaned towards her and pressed his lips softly against hers, gently running his tongue along her bottom lip before pulling away. He kept his face close to hers and smiled dreamily as a light blush covered her cheeks.

"Um, I should really tell the doctor you're awake. You were unconscious for longest out of all of us and he was worried about how it might have affected you." Lisbon stumbled over her words, she was aware she was rambling but couldn't seem to stop talking. "I'll, um, just go and get him."

"Affected me huh? I hope I didn't brain my damage." She laughed quietly as she left, letting the door fall closed behind her, and he was almost sure he heard something slither across the floor. Almost certain he saw a dark shadow outside the door, slinking after her down the hall and almost positive her heard its long black claws scrape along the floor and reach out to grasp the hem of her gown.  
and then it was gone.

There was nothing there, but then of course, there was never anything there. Jane lay back against the pillows, pulling the covers up closer to his chest. He wondered how anyone could ever know what was real and what was not. But then, if enough people believed in something, if it was real to them, would it be possible for it to form a physical state, if only in their minds. Though maybe, occasionally, others were pulled into their illusion. He imagined the masked angel, its empty eyes were hollow and yet held such sorrow. His life so often felt like a dream, though not always an unpleasant one.

He smiled as he remembered the feel of Lisbon's lips against his. He did not believe in joint hallucinations yet he was willing to believe Lisbon was something greater than what was understood in this world. Maybe it was his belief in her. She was special, he knew that, in a way he supposed she never would. She was the last… of what he wasn't quite sure.

But it would be the last in the world that came to Patrick Jane.

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**Finally finished. Sorry the ending isn't all that imaginative. I did have a different ending planned but then I kind of went of on a tangent somewhere In the middle and… *shrugs* Had to bring the mask back, one of my favourite characters. :D  
I didn't explain a lot of stuff and I'm hoping people will be able to read between the lines and make their own judgements.**

**Feedback would mean the world for me. ^^**


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